


Sick

by MadamJMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 13:30:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19395139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamJMalfoy/pseuds/MadamJMalfoy
Summary: Harry doesn’t want to go home. He doesn’t care if he’s sick because how else was he going to see his unrequited crush, if he stayed in bed all day?





	Sick

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own anything about Harry Potter, except for the extra characters I may make up.

Chapter 1

“Potter, go home.”

Weakly shaking his head, Harry waves a hand at the voice to go away. Hearing a heavy sigh in response, Harry slowly lifts his head, wincing at what seems to be a stampede going on behind his eyes. He wearily watches as his auror partner makes his way to Harry’s side of the office. Seeing a hand being raised, Harry closes his eyes in expectation of a friendly slap on the head, but sucks in a breath of surprise as he feels a cool hand against his forehead. Heaving a sigh, now out of contentment, Harry unconsciously leans into the hand and only just, refrains from just hugging the person in front of him. Reminding himself that he will probably get hexed into a warthog, or something similar, he holds himself back with great strength.

Harry only meant to put his head down for a quick second, he didn’t mean for Draco to see that he wasn’t feeling well, and he thought he was doing a pretty good job at hiding it too. Oh sure, he could have just called into work today, but how else was he going to get in his eight hours of staring at his beloved Draco from home. He wasn’t! So just barely managing to throw on some clothes, Harry stumbled through the floo and into his shared office, at the ministry, as he waited for his partner to waltz his perfect arse in. 

Harry loved that his desk was seated right next to the door, as it gave him the chance to ogle that luscious behind until Draco sat down, and then he got to ogle that beautiful face until his shift was over. 

His creepy, er… attentive staring started roughly a year ago, when they became partners. Auror partners! But how Harry wishes it was of the other sort. Malfoy became Draco that day in his mind, as his eyes landed on a whole new person. Gone was the sneer that was ever present on his face, replaced by a subtle smirk that made Harry want to do wicked, wicked things to it. Like bending him over one of the desks, as important paperwork gets strewn all over the place in their frenzy to fuck, or having those lips wrapped around his…or or… Groaning again in frustration, Harry pulls his face away from the cool hand as he tries to wave off Draco’s concern. “I’m fine. I’ll just take a quick nap during lunch and I’ll be right as rain.”

Mouth opening in protest, Harry cuts him off before his partner can say a word and pushes that delectable body back to his desk, just barely refraining from tightening his fingers. Draco frowns as he opens his mouth again but seems to think better of it as he heads back towards his desk. Glaring at Harry for another moment, he turns back to his work, effectively ignoring the sick man.

Sighing in relief that Draco isn’t going to push it any further, Harry turns his attention back to the haphazard stack of paperwork in the middle of his desk and busies himself with it and by busy, he means glaring at it until it shrinks itself.

\--

Groaning in pain, Harry lifts his head and squints as the light assaults his eyes. Dimly wondering where he is, he hears a soft humming coming from his side as his nose picks up a wonderful smell wafting its way towards his nostrils. There, at the corner of his desk, his eyes land on a cup of chicken noodle soup from his favorite muggle diner just around the corner from the ministry. He then registers that the humming has stopped and looks over to find none other than his ex, but still very good friend, sitting there. He groans in delight as he wraps her in a tight one-armed hug.

“Have I told you I loved you today yet?” Ginny only laughs good-naturedly as she gestures for him to eat up. 

“No, not yet, darling.” Rolling her eyes, she stands and grabs her things to leave. “You really need to take care of yourself better Harry, I won’t always be around to take care of you, you know.” 

“I’ll check on you later.” Harry just hums in contentment as he slurps his soup, smiling slightly, thinking of Draco’s reaction. _“You’re such an uncouth slob, Potter, you probably killed the Dark Lord with your abysmal manners.”_

Harry just snickers at his imitation but nearly spits out his soup, as he stares into a menacing glare from the doorway. 

“Malfoy,” Ginny acknowledges his presence as she walks out the door. Draco slightly inclines his head in acknowledgement, but Harry can feel the dark aura radiating off the blond. Gaping in consternation as to why he was on the receiving end of such anger, Harry runs back the last few minutes in his head. Flushing in realization as to what it may have sounded like, Harry opens his mouth to tell Draco it was absolutely NOT what he thought it was because how could Draco not know that Harry was utterly besotted with him, but snaps it shut as Draco gives him another pointed glare, effectively killing the words that Harry was going to say.

“Eat up,” he sneers, “wouldn’t want to waste your girlfriend’s time and effort.” Draco gives him another derisive look, chucking whatever he had in his hands into the bin, and walks back out the door. “I’m finished for the day, see you next week.”  
Mullishly, Harry watches as his partner walks out, slamming the door shut. His shoulders droop as the soup turns acrid in his mouth. Groaning, Harry casts a quick tempus and he realizes it’s just past one o’clock, and he has another five agonizing hours before he can legitimately leave for the day. Dejectedly, Harry pushes the no longer wanted soup to the side and twiddles his thumb. Silently berating himself, he fists his hair in frustration, intensifying the migraine. Of course he’d muck it all up before anything could possibly start, this is why Harry has never acted on his wants, it wouldn’t have worked out anyway.

Pained tears make their way behind his closed lids as he convinces himself that’s all it is, and not his heart fracturing. No, it most certainly wasn’t that.

\--


End file.
